The quiet as I just stood and held onto her was the kind I'd spent too long not knowing I wanted. Though maybe it was better I never knew? Until she had become possible.
I'm quite certain I am enjoying it, but my wolf would have been very restless in it. Reading her stillness for signs of flight.
Urging me to calculate the odds she'd bolt if I let go. Feeding me impulses to hold tighter so she can't disappear on me again.
But now it's only my own feelings on those things - and they aren't nearly as loud. Though they exist. They *certainly* exist.
Perhaps at the level of the sound of a computer's cooling fan system. A thing you can come to ignore through the workday.
Instead of a person standing at your desk, making verbal demands and smashing documents on the table. Figuratively.
There was a reason my desk was made of a fairly crush-proof material. And it wasn't because it was *my* hobby to break things and people when I was angry.
"What are you thinking about?"
